


Unsteady

by jojo_kenobi



Series: Last Request [5]
Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Elliot works for E Corp, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 09:59:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12274098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojo_kenobi/pseuds/jojo_kenobi
Summary: Mr. Robot tries to fix some things Elliot is unhappy about in his relationship with Tyrell. It ends in chaos, as always.





	Unsteady

"Why are you still in bed?" Tyrell said. A second later, he threw a pillow at him and Elliot’s eyes snapped open. Hadn’t Tyrell left for his run only a minute ago? Shit, he must’ve fallen asleep again.  
  
"Fuck off," Mr. Robot answered for him, while Elliot groaned and pulled the blanket over his head.  
  
"Excuse me?" Tyrell replied.  
  
Oh no. Tyrell hadn’t meant to actually hear that one.  
  
Sighing, he peeked out from under the blanket and was met by furrowed brows. Tyrell set his phone and headphones down on the bed table before he slipped out of his shirt and sweatpants, dumping both of them into the laundry box.  
  
"Sorry," Elliot murmured, but Tyrell scoffed.  
  
"Even though you don’t want to, please get up, Elliot." With that, he left the bedroom and got into the shower. Elliot waited for the usual singing to start, wondered if Tyrell would choose Abba or something in Swedish today, but Tyrell kept his silence.  
  
"The boss is mad at you. Come on, kiddo," Mr. Robot chimed in, before he suddenly pushed him out of the bed.  
  
"Hey!" he exclaimed, but Mr. Robot just chuckled at him.  
  
"If you hurry up, you can join him and make up for last night’s disaster."  
  
Right; they’d fought last night, without making up. Tyrell had gone to bed alone and Elliot had waited until he was sound asleep before he had dared to come back into their bedroom.  
  
Elliot glared at Mr. Robot, who was looming over him with that annoying grin of his. He didn’t help Elliot to stand up, but rather just walked ahead, babbling something about showing Tyrell who was in charge. Elliot followed close behind him, but almost didn’t catch the bathroom door Mr. Robot had tried to slam into his face as an attempt to shut him out.  
  
He got into the bathroom just as Tyrell was getting out of the shower again. He barely glanced at him, his mouth still a thin line.  
  
Okay, something was seriously wrong. Why was Tyrell still angry at him? Normally he was the first to give in, not exactly by saying sorry but by attempting a smile and saying "it’s okay, it doesn’t matter"  
  
"Elliot?" Tyrell was staring at him while he dried himself off. "Are you just going to stand there or will you finally get in the shower yourself? You know, like you should have already done an hour ago."  
  
"I’m…" he started, but he couldn’t manage to shut out Mr. Robot, who was whistling through his teeth for the second time now. "Damn, look at those abs," he said, "maybe he will let you suck him off as an apology for letting him down yesterday?"  
  
"Get out," Elliot answered through gritted teeth while covering his face with his hands. Suddenly he felt naked, even though he was at least wearing boxershorts right now. But he was certain that he didn’t want to endure the humiliation of showering with Mr. Robot still in the room.  
  
"Do you… wait, he’s here? _Again_?" Tyrell asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance.  
  
"Hell yeah, and I ain’t leaving so soon, darling." He settled onto the closed toilet seat and lit up a cigarette.  
  
"Still, yeah," Elliot replied.  
  
"Get rid of him, then."  
  
"You know that’s not how it works… I-" he started explaining, but Tyrell just turned away and started to comb his hair. His moves were hasty, frantic even. Why was he being such an… what was the word again? Tyrell had told him how to say asshole in Swedish only yesterday, but he couldn’t remember.  
  
"The word was rövhål, Elliot. And he’s stressed out because the meeting with Allsafe is today and Scott Knowles is gonna be there. You know, your big boss, the one who’s still pissed at him for that thing you fucked up last week. That thing Tyrell took the blame for, because he loves you so much," Mr. Robot clarified, while his eyes still weren’t leaving Tyrell’s body.  
  
"Elliot, shower!" Tyrell grumbled with his toothbrush in his mouth. He was attempting to read something on his iPad, only a towel tied around his waist. He did look hot right now; but Elliot would never gape at him the way Mr. Robot was doing right now… as if he was ready to drop to his knees in an instant.  
  
"But," Elliot pleaded, gesturing towards Mr. Robot.  
  
"I don’t fucking care, just get a grip now or we’re going to be late," he snapped back.  
  
Before he could start to yell at him, Elliot reluctantly did as he was told.    
  
"Submissive as always," Mr. Robot remarked.  
  
Elliot rolled his eyes. This was gonna be one hell of a long day.

  
|~|

  
"What are you doing? We have to turn left here!" Mr. Robot said. Elliot knew he was glaring at him from the backseat, but he tried to ignore him. Instead, he looked to his left, trying to estimate if he could still tailgate his way into the other lane without being too much of an asshole. But even with the indicator blinking, no one would let him in. Of course not. Instead, the cars behind him started honking, since he was blocking the traffic now.  
  
"Just go, Elliot!" Mr. Robot yelled. Elliot jerked the wheel violently back ahead and stepped on the gas. The flashlight was turning from yellow to red just as he crossed the road.  
  
"What’s going on? That’s the wrong –"  
  
"I know," Elliot cut Tyrell off, risking a glance to his right. He caught his look and noticed that Tyrell’s eyes had turned softer, mouth slightly open. This was the same look he always had before he said sorry. Suddenly Elliot’s guilt kicked in, regardless if it was justified or needed. So he took a deep breath, his own apology ready on his lips… until he heard the guy on Tyrell’s phone say something and saw every emotion vanish out of Tyrell’s face again. The moment had passed.  
  
"Eyes on the road, kiddo," Mr. Robot said. The unnerved edge had left his tone and was now replaced by the same weariness Elliot was feeling.  
  
"Yes, I’m still here," Tyrell replied and resumed discussing his work stuff. Elliot did his best to concentrate on driving safely, but all of a sudden he had no clue where they were. Tall, glassy buildings were shielding him from both sides and it all looked the same. The underlying panic he had been fighting for the whole time was flaring up again.  
  
Shit, he hated the New Yorker rush hour in the morning. It was different from the evening one; right now, they were all in a rush to get to work on time, distracted by checking their emails as soon as the flashlight turned red and annoyed by going too slow. In the evenings they were at least burned out enough so that they didn’t curse every second someone made a mistake. In the last five minutes, Elliot had heard so many swear words that he had to grind his teeth together so he didn’t shout back.  
  
He should have just let Tyrell to drive. Even though he could barely stand Tyrell’s style (he was on the phone all the time, he lost his temper easily and he couldn’t stand comments about it), it was better than his own. Since Tyrell had split up with Joana and she had insisted on keeping Mr. X to herself, he had started to drive himself, but even that was more practice than Elliot ever had.  
  
Mr. X… that wasn’t even his real name. But once it had slipped out of his mouth in front of Tyrell randomly, Tyrell had started to call him that as well and it had stuck.  
  
"Break!" Mr. Robot suddenly shouted. Elliot obeyed without checking if he was right and slammed the breaks. Right in time; a shocked teenager who was crossing the street was just flipping him off for almost running her over. Even though she did have a red light. What an idiot.  
  
"Fucking hell, Elliot," Tyrell cursed.  
  
"That wasn’t my fault, she wasn’t-"  
  
"Just get us there, will you?" Tyrell cut him off.  
  
Elliot resisted his own urge to flip him off, but rather gripped the steering wheel tighter. The next time, he wouldn’t drive. No chance for that. Not even Tyrell’s stern voice will make him do it, regardless if he had to read some stupid data dumps that apparently couldn’t have waited until they were in the office.  
  
"That’s the spirit, man. You really need to learn how to say no to him, Elliot," Mr. Robot commented. "But turn left here and we should get out on the back of Evil Corp in a couple of minutes," he added, now with his head upfront and pointing to the next intersection.  
  
Elliot followed his instructions, which, surprisingly, turned out to be right. How could he know the way when Elliot was sure he had never taken it before?  
  
"Can you let me out in front of the building? I don’t have time to wait till you’ve found a spot," Tyrell remarked without looking up from his iPad.    
  
"Uh huh, he’s still royally fucking pissed at you," Mr. Robot commented. Elliot didn’t reply to either one of them.  
  
Tyrell didn’t say anything more himself while practically jumping out of the car. No goodbye kiss, no "see you in a minute".  
  
"You fucked up big time, kiddo," Mr. Robot stated and Elliot sighed.  
  
"Shut up," he replied, useless as always.  
  
Elliot turned into ECorp’s company car park. While he was looking for a free parking spot, Mr. Robot had climbed onto the front seat and was trying to block his view.  
  
"Probably would’ve been better if we would’ve left when we still had the chance. Then we wouldn’t be treated like shit anymore."  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
They ended up finding one of the last spots in silence. After two failed attempts, he had Tyrell’s Jeep parked so far off from the building that it would take him a five minutes walk to get there. He was late now anyway, so he took his time with slipping out of his beloved hoodie and into a suit coat. When he had started working at Evil Corp, they had said that he was free to come and go whenever, as long as he’d be there during the prime times. He had to learn that this wasn’t true the hard way. He had been expected to come in earlier than Tyrell and god forbid if he would leave earlier than him. Like a secretary in the sixties, really. Not only had Tyrell told him about that in his first week, but he had also overheard some of his new colleagues talk about his 'careless behavior' in the kitchen a bunch of times.  
  
It had taken him weeks to get used to the early work time, but now, a year later, it didn’t even matter anymore. He came and left together with Tyrell every day, side by side. Over the months, he had even managed to push their time to go in from seven to eight. Sometimes half past eight, but only when there was no meeting waiting for them and Elliot had been able to persuade him to stay in bed, so they could cuddle a little bit longer. This was grand, coming from someone who still wasn’t fond of cuddling. But the memories of their late mornings managed to make him smile. They should do this again in the next days. Maybe he could check their calendar later to figure out when exactly they’d be able to afford another one of these.  
  
But of course Mr. Robot would have none of this. "Look at you. The only thing you hate more than those dressing shirts are suit coats, and here you are, dressing up for the conglomerate of Evil."  
  
"At least I don’t have to wear a tie," he gave back halfheartedly and got out of the car. He almost broke into a run trying to shake him off, but Mr. Robot didn’t attempt to follow him. Instead, he just yelled after him: "You’re goddamn pathetic, if you ask me."  
  
And that was too much. He stopped dead in his track and turned around. When he answered, he wanted to shout back at him, since merely thinking his answer was kind of ridiculous. He didn’t have much of a choice, though.  
  
'Well, I certainly didn’t ask you. And Tyrell and I were doing just fine, until you decided to come back all of a sudden and ruin everything. So maybe _you_ should leave.‘  
  
"Elliot, I’m here because you need me. And you know that."  
  
Elliot shook his head and kept on walking. His phone went off and, glad about the distraction, Elliot picked it up too fast to look for the name flashing up.  
  
"Yes?" he asked. Normally, he’d be greeted with a "Bonsoir, Elliot." Instead, he could hear Tyrell distantly snap at someone else, until he seemed to realize his boyfriend had already picked up the phone.  
  
"We’ve run out of coffee, can you stop at Starbucks and grab us some before you come in?" he asked, only that it wasn’t a question.  
  
"Sure," Elliot answered and hung up before Mr. Robot could ruin this again. He’d caught up by now and was already ranting again.  
  
"He could’ve at least said please. You’re his assistant, not his slave, goddammit."  
  
Elliot put in earphones and raised the volume all the way up so he wouldn’t hear him anymore.

  
|~|

  
Even after all these months, it still baffled him how easy lying came to Tyrell.  
  
They were sitting in the middle of the meeting. Gideon was holding a presentation of a new concept he’d worked out for them, but Elliot could barely focus on listening, yet alone understanding. His mind was still racing with questions about why Tyrell was so damn mad at him and searching for ideas to change that.  
  
Angela was sitting opposite of him. He’d caught her glancing between Tyrell and him, probably already knowing that his mood couldn’t be worse. Now she was trying to figure out what was going on.  
  
Jesus, sometimes he hated her for knowing him so well. In combination with her always worrying about him and mostly being right about it, this could be annoying as hell. Even if he could normally appreciate it, right now it just annoyed him.  
  
And Tyrell? He was sitting next to him, the only sign of his distress being his occasional drumming on the table. But he should be glad; Tyrell had yelled at mostly everyone who’d dared to cross him today, so him being decent to Gideon and Angela was a nice change now.  
  
Elliot just couldn’t understand why he was so pissed at him. Sure, maybe last night hadn’t really been much fun, but it wasn’t his fault that Mr. Robot had insisted on staying. And as much as he’d gotten used to him, he wasn’t going to have sex with him watching. Absolutely not. Tyrell should’ve understood that. He’d never lost his patience with him before, since he knew that he couldn’t control Mr. Robot.  
  
Was he missing something? Tyrell staying mad at him didn’t make sense. He hadn’t 'fucked up big time,' he hadn’t even done anything else than saying he wasn’t in the mood for sex.    
  
Or maybe it wasn’t his fault after all. Maybe Mr. Robot had done something? Shit, had he lost time again?  
  
This morning, perhaps? He didn’t remember Tyrell waking him up the first time before he went running. Usually he always got up right after Tyrell had left to get coffee and to shower. This time, he had stayed in bed. Why would he even do that?  
  
His eyes snapped to his left when he felt Tyrell nudging him with his foot.  
  
But it was nothing. Gideon was still talking, Angela still watching, Tyrell still fidgeting. He had probably noticed that he wasn’t paying attention. Had he been that obvious? Okay, his pen and notepad were lying in front of him untouched, while Tyrell was already on the third page of his own.  
  
Someone knocked on the door, more out of courtesy than necessity. The walls of their conference room were made of glass. They had always given him a weird sense of nostalgia for when he had still been working at Allsafe.  
  
"Come in,” Scott said, raising his voice for the first time since the beginning of the meeting. Elliot had almost forgotten he was even there with them.  
  
Martin stuck his head in, looking disheveled and in clear distress. He was working in the cybersecurity department on the other end of the floor and one of the few people that Elliot didn’t mind running into when he was in the kitchen.  
  
"Sorry to interrupt, but I really need to speak with Mr. Wellick,” he said, turning red when he only received disapproving looks.  
  
"As you can see, we are in a meeting here. Surely it can wait until we’re done,” Tyrell answered, already mildly annoyed again. He had turned it down as soon as Scott Knowles had joined them and became as charming as ever, but Elliot wasn’t surprised to see his mask of calm beginning to crack.  
  
"Well, it’s kind of urgent…?" Martin replied, but Elliot knew that Tyrell wouldn’t give in. Not today.  
  
"I could come, if that helps?" Elliot suggested, but got up before anyone could protest.  
  
"Yes, it definitely would."  
  
He grabbed his phone from the table and tried not to run out of the room. After Martin closed the door behind them, he let out a big sigh.  
  
"I had hoped you’d come out instead, I don’t exactly need Wellick yelling at me, too," he remarked with a shy grin.  
  
"Yeah, I get that. What happened?"  
  
"His car crashed into my bosses car," he stated. Elliot’s heart skipped a beat.  
  
"Shit, shit, shit," he murmured. _Now_ he had fucked up big time.  
  
"It’s actually not that bad, it just rolled downhill and scratched it, but Mr. Jensen is still pissed as fucking hell. Dude, between us?" Martin leaned in closer to him. If he wouldn’t be still in shock, he’d have moved backwards immediately. Too close.  
  
"Jensen hates Wellick, like, a fucking lot," he murmured, now smirking at him. "Can’t blame him, though."  
  
Elliot snorted. "Yeah," he gave back, finally taking a step backwards. A better man would protect Tyrell now, tell Martin to back off and to mind his own business, but Elliot was no better man. He kept his silence.  
  
"Oh no, speak of the devil. Let’s go, I gotta show you the car," Martin said, already starting to flee. Out of the corner of his eye, Elliot saw movement in the room.  
  
Shit. Tyrell was totally gonna kill him for crashing his car. And suddenly, fear kicked in.  
  
Elliot followed Martin down the floor, but of course they weren’t fast enough.  
  
"Where are you going? You can’t leave now, Elliot," Tyrell called after him, catching up quickly.  
  
He gripped his shoulder to stop him, but Elliot instantly flinched from his touch.  
  
Not for the first time today, Tyrell looked hurt.  
  
"I’ll be back," he breathed out.

  
|~|

  
He came back later than he had intended. When the elevator doors opened, Elliot almost ran into Angela and Gideon.  
  
"Oh, there you are. See you at the office party tonight? Tyrell just invited us," she said.  
  
"I guess so, yeah," he replied, regarded her for a second and then rushed past her.  
  
"Promise? I really need to talk to you, Elliot," she called after him. He turned around and nodded, but didn’t stop walking. Not until his back crashed into somebody. He desperately held onto the two cups of Starbucks coffees in his hands and let out a relieved sigh when nothing spilled over.  
  
"I’m sorry," he stammered and turned around.  
  
"Don’t worry about it," Tyrell replied. His voice was so soft, Elliot almost smiled in relief. But he knew the peace wasn’t about to last. Not until he explained to him what he had done to his car, at least.  
  
"Here," he murmured and pressed one of the cups into his hand.  
  
Tyrell looked at the name scribbled onto it and smirked. "Really? Taylor? You’d think by now they’d know how to spell my name."  
  
"They do, they just don’t like you," Elliot dared to reply with a shy smile on his lips.  
  
"Is that your way of apologizing for crashing my car?" Tyrell smirked. "Don’t look so surprised, Jensen called me out of the meeting to yell at me personally."  
  
His smile faltered as he followed Tyrell into his office. They sat down on his couch and Tyrell sighed wearily. His posture faltered as he took the first sip of his mocha, while Elliot still sat rigid and alert. Like he had always done in his first weeks here, when he was tiptoeing around him all day, regretting having taken this job and being scared of getting yelled at for doing something stupid.  
  
God, he was weirdly sentimental today. Remembering their early days together was something he normally avoided, since those were kinda cringy memories for him to relive. But somehow he found himself yearning for those times, when those were most of his problems. They were easier to handle; also because Mr. Robot had been absent.  
  
"Listen, I-" Elliot started, but Tyrell silenced him by simply shaking his head.  
  
"I already took the blame in front of Jensen, Elliot. I’m going to call insurance later, you don’t have to deal with it."  
  
Some of Elliot’s tension vanished, but Tyrell still made an effort not to look at him. Elliot forced himself to choke out a small "thank you," but it sounded too insignificant for this.  
  
An uncomfortable minute of silence passed before Tyrell stood up again and walked over to his desk. He lingered, maybe debating what work thing to do first now after having dismissed Elliot, but then he turned around to face him again.  
  
"You really don’t remember what you said to me this morning, do you?" he asked quietly, while leaning back against his desk.  
  
For a split second, Elliot wanted Mr. Robot back here, so he could shout at him and demand answers for what he had done. But it was too late for that. He should have done so way earlier, since he had suspected something all day long. Tyrell was no one to hold a grudge over simple disagreements for this long. But of course, now Mr. Robot was nowhere to be seen, hiding somewhere in his subconsciousness and watching.  
  
"To be honest I don’t know if I want to know what he said to you," Elliot answered.  
  
Tyrell snorted, clenching the cup in his hands. "Well, you basically told me that you hate working for me. That it’s a 'waste of your time and your talent,' to quote you… or him," Tyrell added when he saw him flinch at the wrong pronoun. "And that you regret quitting your job at Allsafe, that not even if you would still be working for FSociety, enduring this would be worth it. Whatever FSociety might be right now, but that wasn’t your point, I guess."  
  
Elliot blinked. Once, twice. Unbelieving, unable to process. Error, his mind seemed to scream. He couldn’t have said that. Even if he did loathe his current job sometimes, it hadn’t been that bad. It had been his own decision to take that job, so he wouldn’t cause more harm by his reckless hacking. It was Mr. Robot who still wanted to relaunch FSociety. Why had he even mentioned it to Tyrell? Elliot had made sure to erase everything when he left FSociety behind. He remembered the shit Darlene had given him for leaving them behind, the endless fights and her disappointment. They hadn’t spoken in months because of it. And even though she had promised him that he wouldn’t pursue it any further, for all he knew, she could be working with the Dark Army right now, continuing their plan on her own.  
  
_We’re meant for something greater_ , Mr. Robot suddenly whispered in the back of his mind. _You took this job to spy for us, remember? Not because you fell in love. That came after, you fool. You wanted to-_  
  
'No,' Elliot roared, silencing Mr. Robots intrusion into his thoughts. He had quit this life and started over, choosing a new version: a safer and happier one, together with Tyrell.  
  
… who seemed to take his silence as conformation. He couldn’t know about the fight that Elliot had inside of him. Suddenly he remembered this look on Tyrell’s face now, the mix of disbelief, hurt and disappointment. _Darlene had looked exactly the same_ , Mr. Robot added. _Why do you continue to disappoint everyone you love?_  
  
"No," Elliot whispered and staggered forwards. "That’s not true." He wasn’t sure who his answer was meant for. Tyrell or Mr. Robot? Both?  
  
"Don’t lie to me, Elliot," Tyrell replied.  
  
"I’m not. I don’t hate this job… okay, I don’t particularly like it, either, but that’s not your fault," he tried to explain, but his words didn’t sound convincing enough. He took another step forward, even reached out to Tyrell, but he turned around and sat down at his desk, opening his laptop.  
  
"I’ve got work to do. You do… whatever you want. Go home, I don’t care," Tyrell snapped, his guard pulled back up again and cold as ever.  
  
"Tyrell, please," he pleaded, but again, Tyrell wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  
|~|

  
Elliot was already settled in sweatpants on the couch when Tyrell came home.  
  
He had wandered through New York after he had left work early, trying to clear his mind. Mr. Robot had stayed hidden and kept his silence, but Elliot wasn’t fooled that it could stay this way. Regardless of when he’d return, Elliot was on his own now, having to fix his mess once again all alone.  
  
By now, Tyrell had taken off his shoes and entered the living room. "Hey," Elliot said while Tyrell leaned against the doorframe and greeted him with a tired smile. It soothed his nerves a little bit.  
  
"You intend to skip the party?" Tyrell asked. "Angela will be there."  
  
"I didn’t think you’d want me there," Elliot admitted.  
  
"Well, do you want to accompany me or not?" Tyrell walked past him and started climbing the stairs, probably heading to the bedroom to change. Elliot saw his chances of making up with him fading away, so he followed him. _Like a lapdog_ , Mr. Robot commented, suddenly being present in his mind again, but Elliot let it slide. Upstairs, he was caught off-guard by the desire to just hug him tightly, but the chance of rebuttal kept him from reaching out.  
  
"Tyrell, can you just… stop, for a minute? Please?" He grabbed his arm before he could slam the bedroom door into his face.  
  
"I really don’t want to talk about it, Elliot." He had some kind of exasperated pout on his face now, which Elliot normally would’ve thought was adorable, but not now.  
  
"Then just listen to me."  
  
Tyrell looked at him, waited for him to continue, but suddenly all words Elliot had rehearsed in his head before were gone.  
  
"I… I’m sorry for… Mr. Robot," he stammered and cursed himself when Tyrell’s annoyance came visible once more.  
  
"That all?"  
  
"Tyrell, I’m trying here," Elliot snapped.  
  
"Oh yeah? Try harder."  
  
Tyrell turned around and began to undo his tie, but his hands were suddenly shaking. Only now did Elliot realize he had been waiting for his rage to finally come to the surface. This was the Tyrell he knew; the one with the anger issues.  
  
"Fuck, what more do you need me to say? I meant it."  
  
Tyrell whirled around. " _Helvete_ Elliot, what do you expect me to say? Only a week ago your alter ego, or however you want to call it, made you forget everything about me simply because you found out that I want to spent my life with you; this morning you tell me that you basically hate everything about me, my world and the decisions I thought we had made _together_ over the last year…" Tyrell shortly gasped for air, seeming to have another thought come into his head just this second, "hey, that also means you lied to me over the past months when you’ve told me you’re happy, but to top all this, you also crashed my car!" He threw his hands up and shook his head. "This is kind of tough to process, you know."  
  
"You’re being really unfair here, buddy," Mr. Robot answered calmly. He had pushed Elliot behind himself and was standing in front of Tyrell, who was still trembling with rage.  
  
"And now I get to deal with you again, great. Really great," Tyrell gnarled. The 'buddy' had given away that it wasn’t Elliot in front of him anymore.    
  
"Jeez, would you get off your high horse for once and stop pitying yourself just because things don’t go your way? That’d be real nice for a change," Mr. Robot snarled back. Tyrell scoffed, but he wasn’t finished yet. "Don’t you see it? Elliot has done whatever you wanted to keep you happy, both in your private life and at work. Because yes, he loves you, lord knows why, but also because he has fooled himself into believing that the only thing he needs to be happy is you. When have you ever let him make a decision for himself, huh?"  
  
Tyrell seemed to grasp for words, but he couldn’t find an answer fast enough. Mr. Robot had a sly grin on his face now, knowing he had already won this fight. But he still wasn’t done.  
  
"Do you really believe he has been happy in you’re fucking suits? I mean, come on, do you even remember the person he was when you first met him at Allsafe? Shit, do you really think that this is still love between you two?"  
  
"That’s enough," Elliot whispered. Mr. Robot turned around slightly, regarding him with a pitiful look.  
  
Tyrell’s anger had shrunken by now, was replaced by shock and disbelief, which slowly turned into sorrow. Again, Elliot wanted to cross the distance between them and hug him, but Mr. Robot wouldn’t let him past. It didn’t matter, anyway; Tyrell stormed past the both of them and slammed the door behind him.  
  
"You’re not helping me by breaking us up."  
  
Elliot heard glass shatter, probably in the bathroom, followed by Tyrell cursing in Swedish. Mr Robot sighed.  
  
"You’re not gonna break up, kiddo. But he needed to hear this, you know that."  
  
"Yeah, probably," Elliot agreed. "What do I do now?"  
  
"Leave him alone and give him some time to think about this?"  
  
"Hmm, I guess," Elliot agreed. "Thank you," he added grudgingly.  
  
Mr. Robot smiled at him and patted his shoulder. "It’s gonna be okay," he said and then he vanished.  
  
Elliot sighed, only now realizing how shaky he was himself. He slumped onto the bed, burying his head into his hands and focusing on slowing down his breathing. He was itching for a cigarette, but unwilling to move.  
  
Tyrell was definitely going to break up with him, regardless of what Mr. Robot had claimed. He deserved better than this. What did Tyrell want with someone who was as fucked up as he was? He could replace him in a heartbeat; Elliot remembered all the women throwing themselves at him when they got word that he had split up with Joana, before they knew that Tyrell was already taken again. A man as handsome and powerful like Tyrell… he could pick whoever he deemed to be worthy.  
  
The ringtone of Tyrell’s phone broke his train of thought. He glanced over to his side, where Tyrell had apparently thrown it onto the bed without care. Angela Moss, it read. Now what did she want from him? Had the party started already? It was past seven by now, so probably yes.  
  
After she couldn’t reach Tyrell, she tried Elliot’s phone. Even though he didn’t want to talk to anyone right now, he picked up.  
  
"Angela, what’s up?"  
  
"Hey, I just wanted to know if you’re already on your way," she asked.  
  
"I’m not going," he stated. He heard her sharp intake of breath, probably the beginning of anxiety forming in her, but Elliot couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for her. He just felt numb.  
  
"What happened? Did you two fight again?"  
  
"Yeah," he replied with a sudden lump in his throat. "What did you want to talk about earlier?"  
  
"I... Tyrell offered me your job today," she said.  
  
"Oh," he answered, unsurprised. So he had already made another decision for him today. How great.  
  
"I have no idea what this was about, to be honest. Does that mean you’re leaving ECorp? Oh god, you didn’t break up, did you?"  
  
"Listen, I gotta go," he cut her off and hung up before she could say another word.  
  
Just then, Tyrell entered the bedroom again. He wore a towel around his waist now, his hair still wet but combed backwards. Memories of this morning came back, when he had still believed that things weren’t too bad between them. He had been sure that they would’ve fixed everything by the evening, but now it had only gotten worse.  
  
Elliot waited for him to ask him to leave, but Tyrell didn’t look at him.  
  
He watched him dress again in silent, his heartbeat drumming loudly in his ears.  
  
"Do you want to go back to Allsafe?" Tyrell eventually asked. His voice was hoarse, so Elliot looked at his reflection in the mirror only to notice that his eyes were red. He had never seen Tyrell cry before. If Elliot would mention it, he would probably deny it.  
  
"You’re asking that a little too late now, don’t you think? Since you already gave away my job?" Elliot snapped at him.  
  
"I thought this would be what you want. But if that’s not it, I can talk to Scott, to see if we can transfer you to the cybersecurity department."  
  
"Just stop making decisions for me, would you? I need to think about it," Elliot said after a while. By now, Tyrell was dressed in one of his best suits again and fastened his watch around his wrist.  
  
He was almost out of the room again when Elliot said, "I still love you, okay? That’s true."  
  
"What a relief," Tyrell shot back, irony cutting on the edge. He didn’t say it back; he just left.

  
|~|

  
Elliot woke up the next morning with Tyrell absent in their bed. For a second, he thought he was gone just like that, perhaps had left early for work without waking him up. But it was only 6:46, his phone reassured him. He couldn’t be already awake now, even less so because he hadn’t heard him come in last night. Elliot hadn’t been able to find sleep until it was way after midnight. He had just smoked cigarette after cigarette while trying to keep his anxiety at bay and wishing for his tears to stop.  
  
His eyes were still puffy, even now. He had to splash some cold water into his face to feel somewhat alive.  
  
Tyrell was where Elliot had hoped he’d be: on the couch in the living room, wrapped tightly in a blanket and still asleep.  
  
Unsure what to do, he tried tiptoeing his way over to him to get his laptop from the couch table, so he could pass the time until Tyrell would wake up by himself. He didn’t remember that one spot where their floor always creaked, though. It was loud enough that Tyrell groaned. His eyes fluttered open and fixed on him.  
  
"Jävla, what time is it?" he murmured.  
  
"Around seven," Elliot whispered back, "you can go back to sleep, nobody will care if we’re gonna come in later today."  
  
"Yes, probably. Can you come here, please?"  
  
Tyrell sat up and ruffled through his hair while hiding a yawn behind his hand. Elliot sat down next to him and let himself be enfolded into the blanket with Tyrell, pulled closer to him. He rested his forehead against his head and pressed a shallow kiss to his temple.  
  
"I’m sorry," he murmured. Elliot suppressed the urge to snarl "for what exactly, be more specific" and just nodded.  
  
"I’ve spent all night thinking about this and Elliot, I want you to tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you, I promise. And I want you to be honest with me… even if that," Tyrell paused to take a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh, "even if that means that I have to let you go."  
  
"No, Tyrell," Elliot answered fast. "I just… I don’t know what I want. I need some time to figure it out, I guess."  
  
"Okay," Tyrell breathed. "Can I… can I kiss you?" Tyrell asked, causing Elliot to grin.  
  
"Yeah, that’s among the things I’m sure I want."  
  
"Good," he murmured. He slowly turned Elliot’s face around by taking ahold of his chin. He probably would’ve wanted this to be slow and cherishing; but they had never been too good at that. Sure enough, after a few seconds Elliot was lying under him on the couch, not bothering to hold back his moans into their kiss.  
  
"I missed that," Tyrell whispered while he pulled his shirt over his head.  
  
"Mhm, me too."  
  
"Guess I’ll have to take a pass on running today," Tyrell chuckled.  
  
"I don’t even care," Elliot breathed and pulled him back onto himself. Their sweatpants came off faster than he could register it. But with Tyrell both pumping his dick and sucking on his neck, it was rather difficult to notice anything else besides that.  
  
Until he opened his eyes to figure out where the blanket went.  
  
And there he was, sitting on an armchair, smoking and grinning at him. Mr. Robot, back again.  
  
"For fucks sake," Elliot cursed. He picked the blanket up from the floor and pulled it over the two of them.  
  
"What is it?" Tyrell asked out of breath, after Elliot had gripped his hand to stop him from rubbing their dicks together.  
  
"I can’t," Elliot answered, hoping Tyrell would get the hint so he didn’t have to say the explanation for it out loud.  
  
He did. "Fuck, this can’t be. Where?" he asked and Elliot covered his eyes with his arm, while pointing to his left.  
  
"Oh really? Just when this got interesting, you’re backing out?" Mr. Robot commented, still with that sly grin of his.  
  
"Shut up, would you?" Elliot answered and threw a pillow in his direction.  
  
"Can’t you just-"  
  
"Wish him away? That’s not how it works, you know that, Tyrell," Elliot cut him off. Tyrell sighed, but eventually let go of him and sat up.  
  
"I’m going to take a cold shower," he said and got up. He didn’t bother to get dressed again, but simply picked up his sweatpants and shirt and walked over to the stairs. Elliot stayed where he was, pulling the blanket up to his chin.  
  
"How could you say no to that hot piece of ass? Again?" Mr. Robot asked and tsk-ed at him.  
  
"I wouldn’t have to say no if you would just leave me alone," Elliot answered. He didn’t care that Tyrell could hear him; hell, he wanted him to hear this. So he knew this was not at all his fault, that Elliot wanted him as much as the other way around.  
  
"Guess you have to get rid of me again to get some, then."  
  
"Hmm. And how do you want me to try it this time? Take some adderall, for example?"  
  
"It’d be easier to sort out your shit and get back into that happy bubble of yours," Mr. Robot replied.  
  
"Easier? Not exactly." Elliot snorted. "Besides, you smashed that bubble."  
  
"Whoops," Mr. Robot said and laughed again. "Create a new one, perhaps? Maybe one where you don’t need me to pull you out again?"  
  
"Why are you even helping me?" Elliot asked, sitting up now, too, staring back at him.  
  
"Because, believe it or not, I want you to be happy. But not this compromised, suppressing every part of you, kind of happy. I mean a real happiness."  
  
"I don’t think that’s what god had in mind when he created me," Elliot deadpanned back. Mr. Robot chuckled.  
  
"Screw god, anyways."  
  
"Amen," Elliot joked. "If I go upstairs and join him, can you please leave me alone? Just this once?"  
  
"I’ll give you fifteen minutes. If you’re not done by then, you’ll run seriously late. I’ll make sure to remind you, then," Mr. Robot answered. His grin had been replaced by a tiny smile, this time an honest one without mischief. Elliot raced upstairs, starting to count the seconds in his head. Fifteen minutes. Not exactly what they deserved to have, but he’d make it count.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, you made it till the end, congrats! :D thank you for reading this :) 
> 
> Kudos/Comments would be highly appreciated.


End file.
